


25 Ways To Say I Love You

by bry0psida



Series: Harringrove Advent [17]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Advent Calendar, Angst, Coming Out, Conflict Resolution, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Period-Typical Homophobia, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:14:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21832000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bry0psida/pseuds/bry0psida
Summary: Steve makes Billy a personalised advent calendar.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove
Series: Harringrove Advent [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558885
Comments: 31
Kudos: 229





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically gonna be a collection of ficlets that are all technically part of the same story.
> 
> I knew I wanted to do a personalised advent calendar but wasn't sure how to roll with it, so largely based it off of number 3 on [this](https://www.housebeautiful.com/entertaining/holidays-celebrations/g22715715/diy-advent-calendar-ideas/) DIY advent calendar list.

Steve’s spent weeks on it. He’s a little embarrassed by how long it’s taking him, honestly. He’s got crappy handwriting and no craft skills to boot, what can you do.

Steve quickly realised the project was more than a little out of his wheelhouse after the fourth failed version and winds up enlisting Nancy’s help. Turns out she’s a real craft nut.

“So, who’s it for?” Nancy asks as she compares two near identical packs of coloured paper in Melvald’s.

“Uh, you don’t really know them all that well.”

Nancy picks the left pack. Steve still can't tell the difference. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“’S not that,” Steve inspects a pack of ribbons. “Just…don’t know how you’ll react.”

“Steve,” Nancy says. Steve looks at her. She’s pressing her lips together like she does when she can’t say what she really wants to. Steve used to love that face. “I’d say you can trust me, but I understand why you don’t. Tell me when you’re ready.” Nancy pats him on the arm a little awkwardly and that’s that.

They drive back to Nancy’s to get to work. Steve grabs a couple sodas from the kitchen while Nancy spreads their supplies across the table. Steve sits in what used to be his usual spot, Nancy sits opposite him.

“Where do we start?” Steve asks.

“Well, we can’t make the envelopes if I don’t know how big the messages you’re putting in are going to be. Have you written them out?” Steve nods, opens his messenger bag and pulls out all the little folded pieces of paper. Nancy grabs one at random, clears her throat around a laugh as she reads it. “Steve?”

“What?”

“This is terrible,”

“No it isn’t! I spent so long coming up with-“

“Not the message, the message is cute. Your handwriting’s a train wreck.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s pretty bad.”

“Do you want me to re-write them all for you?” Nancy asks

Steve cracks open his soda. “I mean, yeah, but it won’t mean as much if you do all the work.”

“I won’t. I’ll write the notes and show you how to make the envelopes. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Steve doesn’t realise quite what he’s just agreed to share with Nancy till she’s bright red in the face, hand over her mouth as she reads one of the many notes.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all,” Steve says. Nancy collects herself.

“No, no, it’s…it’s fine. Happy to help.” Steve leans across the table to see which one she’s read. Number 18, the sex one. _Christ_. Nancy reads it again, can’t contain a snort this time. “Five times, huh?”

Steve groans, rests his head on his arms. Nancy doesn’t tease him any more after that, just measures all the slips of paper, marks down the measurements in her little notepad and shows him how to fold the paper into envelopes. Steve makes a mess of the glue, so now Nancy’s in charge of gluing, too. They finish the envelopes first, Nancy gets busy writing out the notes in her own much neater hand. Steve fusses over what buttons and ribbons to stick on which envelopes.

Nancy stops writing to read one of the notes out loud. “‘Twelve: I love all your smiles, I love that you have so many different ones. Nothing makes me happier than making you smile.’ Awh, that’s so cute, Steve.”

Steve smiles. “I hope B-I hope they like it.”

“I can’t think of many people who wouldn’t love a gift like this,” Nancy reads another one. “’13: I love what a good…what a good brother you are to Max.” Steve watches the smile fall from her face. _Oh no._ “Steve?” _Oh no. Oh no._ Nancy puts the paper down, reaches across the space between them to Steve’s iron grip on the table.

“It’s- it’s okay. It’s a little surprising, but it’s okay.”

Steve lets out the breath he’s been holding in a whoosh of air. Can’t believe he’s been so careless, glad the only person who makes him so careless other than Billy is Nancy. “No one else knows.”

“And I’ll keep it that way,”

…

They talk about it. It’s so much easier being Nancy’s friend than her boyfriend. And she’s not treating him any differently. She asks him pretty much all the questions she’d ask if he was doing this for a girl. Steve appreciates it. Appreciates it a lot. Tells her like four times how much.

She teases him some more with a few of the other notes and insists that since it’s for Billy Hargrove of all people and not a girl, he’d appreciate Steve’s messy handwriting a lot more than Nancy’s curly script. Steve finds himself agreeing with her.

He gives her a stifling hug on the porch. Nancy squeezes back just as tight.

“Thank you, Nancy.”

Nancy pulls herself out of the hug, gives him a mock stern look ad a good finger wag. “If you thank me one more time I’m never helping you with another craft project again.”

Steve laughs lightly. “Got it.”


	2. Chapter 2

_1;_

Steve’s been kinda weird the last couple days. He’s real excited about something, won’t tell Billy what it is. It’s probably Christmas, but why wouldn’t he just say that?

Billy gets his answer on December 1st when he wakes up to Steve looming over him. He’s taken to staying the night for weeks at a time when Steve’s parents are out of town, even sneaks in and back out again on the nights Neil’s being worse than usual.

Steve’s still hovering over him, got that weird look he gets when he’s desperately trying not to smile. He’s not doing a great job. “Can I help you?”

“I got you something,”

Billy nods at his morning wood tenting the sheet. “Got something for you, too.”

Steve snorts. “I meant for Christmas.”

“You don’t want any nookie Christmas day?”

“Billy!”

Billy smiles a lazy smile up at Steve. “Little early, isn’t it?”

Steve shakes his head no. “It’s one big present that’s made up of lot’s of little presents that you open each day.”

Billy frowns, stretches till his back pops. “What, like a calendar with chocolate or some shit?”

“Sort of.” Steve grabs something from inside his bedside table, thrusts a mason jar full of colourful paper towards Billy. Billy takes it.

“Well, this isn’t chocolate.”

“Billy, I swear to _god.”_

Billy stops teasing Steve and opens the jar. It’s not just paper, it’s envelopes, lot’s of tiny envelopes. Billy pulls out the one on the end. It’s green, has a big 1 written on the front. “What are these?”

“Letters,”

“Love letters?” Steve nods with his lips pressed together, still fighting his smile. Billy doesn’t fight his.

He’s not really expecting anything in particular when he opens the first envelope, definitely doesn’t expect a sweet ass little note like the ones Steve passes him in the halls or english class sometimes.

_I love the way you dress. You always look so cool._

Billy smiles at the paper, at Steve. “Baby, this is so cute. Are they all like this?”

“Yeah, so you have something to look forward to everyday.” Billy’s heart gives a little kick in his chest.

“I already have something I look forward to everyday,”

Steve crawls over Billy, slots their hips together. Billy’s breath hitches. “Oh yeah?” Steve whispers. “What’s that?”

“Seeing you,” Billy says before surging up to kiss Steve.

…

_2;_

Billy stayed the night again. It’s become so frequent it feels weird to go back to Neil’s house. It was never home to Billy, home was always California and his mom and Max, now Billy’s home is Steve’s home. It feels weird to go back to his own house, so he doesn’t.

He’s at the kitchen table trying to open the second letter when Steve smacks it out of his hand. “Don’t read it yet!” Billy raises his eyebrows, rescues the letter from the floor. “Didn’t you read the instructions?”

“What?”

“On the back where the open flap thingy is, there’s instructions for where you have to read them.”

Billy checks. _Read me alone in the Camaro,_ it says. “Do they all have a designated time and place?”

Steve takes the letter and tucks it in Billy’s shirt pocket. “Yeah, and you better stick to it.”

Billy shakes his head at Steve in amusement. “You big dork.”

Steve grins at him, leans down for a kiss. He tastes a lot like orange juice and a little like toothpaste. “Yeah, but I’m _your_ big dork.”

Usually they drive to school together, but Steve’s parents are coming back tonight and Billy’s out of clean clothes at Steve’s and hardly any of Steve’s clothes fit Billy right. So back to Neil’s for the night, which means driving to school alone. Fine.

Steve pulls out before Billy does, waves at him out the window. Billy watches him go, then fishes the letter out of his pocket.

 _I love your car. It’s obnoxious and ostentatious and very you._

Billy lets the feeling of Steve’s warmth wash over him for a few moments more before tucking the letter back in the jar and driving to school.

…

_3;_

Billy makes sure to read the letters when Steve wants him to, even when he’s not around to check. Makes a point to check what the next instruction is before he goes to bed so he doesn’t forget.

_Read me when you’re changing your earring._

Billy wasn’t actually planning on changing it today, but whatever. For Steve. He’ll notice. Billy swaps out his little silver hoop for a silver ball instead, then carefully opens the third note.

 _I love your jewelry. I could never pull off the stuff you wear._

Billy resolves to make Steve wear his jewelry.

…

_4;_

_Read me when you’re about to do your hair._

Billy’s actually having a pretty shitty hair day. He’s out of AquaNet and Max finished his shampoo without telling him and Neil measures the amount left in his bottle ‘cause he’s a prick like that, and Susan’s is strawberry scented, so that’s a no go. He tries just washing it with water but it’s still flat and a little greasy. Definitely a hat day.

Billy swipes one of Max’s thin hair ties, gathers the longest strands at the nape of his neck and works it into a loose little bun, then roots around for the grey knit cap his mom made when she was alive and way too big for him at 12 but perfect at 18. Once it’s on, he opens the letter.

_I love your hair, even when it’s flat from you sleeping on it or extra curly from the rain._

Billy takes a last look in the mirror. Even when Steve’s not here he still finds a way to make Billy like himself.

…

_5;_

_Read me before you shower._

The shower’s broken, because of course it is. It feels like Steve has been conspiring with the universe to find the perfect opportunity to deliver these notes to Billy.

Billy’s about to bathe in deodorant when he remembers the note, tosses the can of Gillette on the bed and unfolds the little yellow envelope with buttons.

_I love how you smell. Not your cologne, but just you. Your cologne’s good too, though. Keep wearing your cologne._

This isn’t news to Billy. Steve’s a little gross, sometimes. Gets right in Billy’s pits after sex, sometimes before. He’s always randy after they’ve been playing basketball, sweat thick in the air. Billy gets it, he does. Just doesn’t get off on it like Steve.

Billy forgoes deodorant and cologne. Doesn’t regret it one bit.

He’s not got any classes with Steve today before gym. It’s quite something to watch the look on Steve’s face change when he starts stripping into his gym clothes in the locker room.

Tommy H. coughs as he passes Billy. “Holy shit man, you fuckin’ stink.”

“Shower broke,”

“Yeah, I can tell. Yikes.”

Billy’s never seen Steve look so serious. It’s kind of hilarious.

To say Steve’s a little off his game would be generous. He’s a god damn disaster, and Billy knows why. Goes out of his way to block, elbow and charge him. Steve’s playing gets noticeably worse every time Billy crowds him. They get benched after Billy’s third foul. Steve bypasses it altogether, heads straight towards the showers. Billy’s quick on his heels.

Steve slams him into a locker not two seconds after he’s even back in the locker room, gets his hands up Billy’s sweaty back and his teeth on Billy’s earlobe.

Billy’s startled laugh is all husky, just how Steve likes it most. Steve moans into Billy’s ear and slots their hips together. Steve’s rock fucking hard. Billy’s getting there. “Showers, now.” Steve breathes into his hair.

“Fuck yeah,” Billy says.

They’ve got a good twenty minutes at least before people start hitting the showers. Still, no time to waste. They strip bare before crowding into one of the few stalls, turn the water up hot and makeout against the cold door till the spray is warm enough to step under.

Steve’s _into_ this. It’s not the first time they’ve fucked here, but it’s the first time Billy’s intentionally orchestrated it. Steve probably knows. Doesn’t matter. All that matters is Steve’s teeth on his bottom lip and Steve’s cock rubbing against his own.

“Billy,” Steve says.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna taste you,”

Billy gives that a moment to rush to his head. Feels it throb. “Fuck. Yes.”

Steve nods a couple times, licks his lips as he gets on his knees. Billy turns so his back is to the spray and doesn’t get in Steve’s eyes. His lips are so fucking red and just hanging open in this little o shape. It’s hot. It’s so hot.

Billy grips the base of his cock, guides the tip to Steve’s lips, just smears it along Steve’s cupid’s bow a couple times, then the bottom. Steve’s eyes flutter shut and his mouth drops open like it’s a reflex and Billy’s dick twitches in his hand, between Steve’s lips. Steve moans and Billy pushes in.

Steve’s always been good at giving head, Billy couldn’t believe his cock was the first Steve had sucked. He just knows what to do, seems to know how Billy wants it before he does. This time certainly isn’t an exception.

He’s fucking sloppy is what he is, licking and sucking at the tip like it’s a god damn tootsie pop, like Billy’s sweaty dick’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

He’s not swallowing his spit so it’s trailing down his chin and neck. Billy groans. Steve groans back when Billy pushes more of his cock into Steve’s hot mouth, to the back of his tongue and the opening of his throat.

He doesn’t last long. Doesn’t really have the time for it anyway, and he couldn’t last if he tried with how Steve’s going at his cock, both hands and too much spit and a shocking amount of enthusiasm for 9 AM on a Tuesday. Billy comes with one hand on the door and another in Steve’s hair, pants and shudders his way through it. Steve opens his mouth to show Billy he didn’t spill a damn drop, then swallows it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first real smut I've posted and I have no idea what to make of it, please y'all please tell me if it's good.


	3. Chapter 3

_6;_

_Read me when you’re putting on chapstick._

Billy never really used chapstick before moving to Indiana. Long Beach was humid enough he never got chapped lips in the summer, and it almost never drops below 40°F in winter. Chapped lips and chapstick are a new and unwelcome experience.

He’s stuck using Max’s cherry flavoured one till he gets his own. Might just steal hers, honestly. Tastes fucking great. Billy’s been practically eating it. Steve keeps laughing at him when he smiles and uses Billy’s toothpick to excavate the little pockets of pink he’s getting between his teeth.

Billy gives the stick a last lick before opening the next note. It’s pink with a little glitter on the front. Cute.

_I love your lips. I love how pink they always are, how defined your cupids bow is. It’s pretty. You’re pretty._

Now that’s given Billy an idea.

“Max!” Billy calls.

“What?” Max calls back.

“C’mere a sec,”

Max trudges to his room, greets him with an eye roll and a sigh. “I’m _busy_ , hurry up.” Max has just started experimenting with makeup. She’s not all that good at it yet but she’s definitely improving.

“I need to borrow something,”

She crosses her arms. “Oh, like you borrowed my cherry chapstick?”

“I’ll buy you more. Do you have any lip gloss or lipstick or something?” Max just looks at him. “Well?”

“Might have,” She answers, cautious. “Why do you wanna borrow it?”

Billy snarks. “So I can be the prettiest boy at school. You have anything or not?”

Max rolls her eyes again and leaves the room. Billy follows. Max is rolling her eyes so much these days Billy’s surprised they haven’t fallen out of her head.

Max rummages through the disorganised mess that’s become of her makeup kit, tosses a couple tubes of gloss and lipstick onto her bed. “Go nuts. _Don’t_ steal any.”

Billy scans the tubes, pockets the glittery pink tint gloss. “Don’t tell Neil, okay?”

“Obviously. And Billy?” Billy turns in her doorway. “You better buy me more dang chapstick.”

Billy laughs his way out.

The gloss has been burning a whole in his coat pocket all day. Billy’s desperate to put it on, show Steve. Knows he should really wait till they’re back at Steve’s or the quarry but he’s too damn impatient for that, so he borrows Carol’s compact, slips Steve a note in English and waits for him under the bleachers during fourth period.

Billy faces the sun, holds the compact high, bites his lips a couple times to get the blood flowing, then puts on the gloss. Feels weird, nothing like chapstick at all. It’s sweet, though. Billy makes a mental note to find a way to thank Max for her taste in flavoured cosmetics.

Steve’s taking a while to show up. Billy wants to smoke. Doesn’t wanna ruin his lip gloss. Steve shows up right before he can light one up out of impatience.

“Billy? Is everything okay?”

Billy tucks the Camel behind his ear with his hair, turns to face Steve, gives him a seductive little smile as he leans against one of the supporting beams for the seats above.

“More than okay now you’re here,”

Steve notices the gloss, like, immediately. His mouth falls open in that little o Billy’s fucking obsessed with. “Is that…” Steve gets closer. Billy lets him. “Lip gloss?”

“Might be,”

“God,”

“Wanna taste?”

“Fuck yeah,”

And then Steve’s on him. No gentle kisses or brushes of the lips, just tongues and lips and teeth and hunger. They kiss till they can’t breathe, till Steve’s got lip gloss all over his face and neck.

The bell rings. Fourth period’s over. Steve can’t look away from Billy’s lips. “You wanna skip fifth?” Steve asks.

Billy kisses him in answer.

…  
 _7;_

_Read me when you’re curling your eyelashes._

The first time Steve saw Billy curl his eyelashes he had a bit of a meltdown. Idiot had never seen curlers before, thought Billy was about to cut most of ‘em off. As if.

Billy’s got damn good lashes and he knows it. Still, a little curling never hurt.

_I love your eyelashes. They’re thick and dark and frame your eyes just right._

Billy steals some of Max’s mascara. Steve goes wild for it.

…  
 _8;_

_Read me when you’re about to smoke._

Billy wants to stop smoking, he does. He’s not an idiot, knows it’s bad for him in all kinds of ways. It just feels good and looks good and it’s a habit now, something to do with his hands.

Steve kicked the habit before they met. Billy’s glad for it, wants Steve around and healthy as long as possible. Steve loves watching him smoke, though. Billy catches him staring sometimes. Doesn’t call him on it anymore, just basks in the feeling of being desired.

_I love that you insist on using matches instead of a lighter because it ‘gets you in the mood’ to smoke._

Billy goes out of his way to smoke in front of Steve that day. Steve appreciates it, if the frantic kisses he gets in the out of order stall between classes is anything to go by.

…  
 _9;_

_Read me when you don’t like yourself._

Billy doesn’t hate himself anymore, and isn’t that an experience. Somewhere between Max and Steve and actually trying to be someone he likes, Billy’s stopped hating himself, even likes himself sometimes. Not all the time. Mostly he’s just neutral. It works.

Not today, though. Today starts with a lecture and a slap when Billy doesn’t have the right answer fast enough. It’s not the worst morning he’s had, but shit like this hurts that much more now Billy’s doing better.

Billy can’t go back to the way he was, being angry at the world and everyone in it, at himself. But all these feelings have to go somewhere, so they might as well go inward.

Neil never wanted kids, Billy learned that from one of his mom’s diaries. _Should’ve worn a fucking condom instead of pulling out, then. Asshole._ Why he thought it was a good idea to marry someone with another kid for him to put up with is beyond Billy.

Before Steve and Max, Billy hadn’t felt wanted in a long time. He’s still getting used to it, being wanted. On days like this it’s not something he can feel without being reminded. He’s crying in his car and his cheek is throbbing from where Neil’s ugly signet ring clipped his cheekbone and he wishes he’d never been fucking born.

He digs the mason jar out of his bag, screws off the lid and opens the black envelope with gold and silver stars drawn on it in metallic gel pen.

_I love that you exist at the same time as me. I’m so lucky to know you._

Billy cries all the way to Steve’s house.

…  
 _10;_

_Read me when you feel the sun on your face._

It’s days like this that Billy misses California most. He thought it’d be the cold days, but no, it’s the warm ones that get him. There’s never quite enough heat or light behind the sun, never a sea breeze in the air.

He brought a box of sea shells and stones from Long Beach, he’s even got a little bag of sand. He doesn’t open it often, wants to preserve the smell as long as possible. Billy sticks his fingers into the sand filled ziplock, rolls the grains between the pads of his index finger and thumb, let’s it sift between them, thinks about teaching Steve to surf.

He tucks the box back into it’s place under his bed before standing in front of the window. He grabs the mason jar from the top of his left speaker. The sun is shining through the slats of his blind, lighting a pattern on the envelope in his hands.

_I love your eyes. They’re so pale they’re almost grey. I feel like they reflect light sometimes. I get lost in that thought, that you reflect light onto everyone you look that._

Billy angles the mirror so it’s facing him, tries to find whatever it is that Steve sees in him.


	4. Chapter 4

_11;_

_Read me when you’re trying to cover your ears with your hair._

Billy got bullied a little in middle school, before he toughened up and started cracking kids in the nose who looked at him funny.

He was pretty quiet before he was a hard ass. Mostly kids picked on him for his ears. They’re nothing special, they’re just ears. Billy never even thought about what they looked like till Dave Cook and his little gang of shit heads started making fun of Billy for them.

It started out with just teasing, mean words on the playground, drawings passed in class where Billy is tiny but his ears are like Dumbo’s. Then it started to escalate, Dave started pulling on them when he walked past, flicking them with a spoon in the cafeteria. Billy punched him the second time he tried it. Kids left him alone after that.

Billy’s over it. Mostly. He got his ear pierced when he was having one of those days where it’s just on his mind. It helped, he likes them a lot more now. Billy’s been meaning to pierce the other one, maybe a hoop through the cartilage or something.

He still has days like this though, days where his hair doesn’t wanna sit on top of them and Billy’s trying not to cry because it’s fucking _stupid,_ not even like he sees them unless he looks in a mirror. It’s not his problem.

_I love your ears. I know you get a little insecure about them but you shouldn’t because they’re damn cute._

Billy gives up on trying to cover them up, ties his hair back instead, embraces it like he did when he got his ear pierced. Steve takes advantage during free period, whispers all kinds of dirty shit between sucking and biting on the lobe.

Billy wears his hair up a little more often after that.

…

_12;_

_Read me when you could use a smile._

Billy isn't seeing Steve tonight. He’s got the a stomach bug or something and his parents are home again and Billy can’t risk getting sick, he’s missed too much school already. Oh, and it’s their one year anniversary. Great.

Billy tried calling Steve but he was way too sick to hold conversation. Billy’s feeling pretty damn miserable about the whole thing. Max doesn’t get what’s up with him, is getting annoyed with him pestering her to hang out. So he’s kicking it at the quarry with a pack of smokes and the champagne he stole and Steve’s favourite albums for the rest of the night.

He needs a pick me up. Open’s today’s letter.

_I love all your smiles, I love that you have so many different ones. nothing makes me happier than making you smile._

Billy smiles for the first time all day, keeps smiling till his cheeks hurt.

…

_13;_

_Read me when you’re hanging out with Max._

“What’s that?” Max points at the mason jar.

“None of your business,” Billy slips out the thirteenth envelope while Max buckles her seatbelt. It’s orange.

“Is it from your secret girlfriend?”

“My what?”

“Oh come on, I’m not stupid. Why else would you be stealing my makeup if you _didn’t_ have a secret girlfriend? Oh, is this a secret girlfriend on top of a _girlfriend_ girlfriend?”

“I have a job, why would I steal your makeup to give to some chick when I can just buy some?”

“Uh, ‘cause you’re cheap? Maybe it’s like how other people’s food always tastes better. Maybe your little sister’s stolen makeup just looks better.”

“Maybe I’m doing drag,”

“ _Please,_ if you were doing drag you'd take a lot more than chapstick and lipgloss. And mascara. Yeah, I _noticed_ my brand new mascara has been disappearing.”

Billy presses his lips together. “I’ll give them back later. Promise.”

Max scoffs, puts her feet up on the dash. Billy lets her, opens the envelope.

_I love what a good brother you are to Max. I love that she’s better than you at a bunch of stuff but you don’t get insecure about it._

“Hey, Max?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna kick my ass at some PacMan?”

Max beams at him.

…

_14;_

_Read me next time you talk to Mrs. Wheeler._

Karen’s a doll, she really is. Always invites Billy in for a sweet treat and a glass of milk. Today’s no exception. Billy indulges her.

“I only have full fat, is that okay?”

Billy flashes her a smile, all teeth. “Full fat’s just fine with me.” Karen drops the carton.

“Oh shoot,” A little has spilled on the counter, certainly not enough to warrant the intensity of blush Karen’s sporting. “I’m never sure if you’re on a diet or if you even need to watch what you eat to keep in such great shape.”

“Karen, you flatter me.” She places the glass of milk and plate of shortbread in front of him with shaky hands.

“It’s true! I don’t know how you do it. I so much as look at the sweets I make for the kids I gain five pounds.” Billy brings a piece of shortbread to his mouth, Karen watches with rapt attention.

“I have a high metabolism,” Billy bites into the shortbread, eats it slowly. Karen is a mess. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with bigger girls.” Billy pushes the plate towards Karen with his knuckles.

“I really shouldn’t,”

“Says who?” Karen doesn’t have an answer for that. “You work hard, you look incredible. If anyone’s earned a treat, it’s you. Live a little."

Karen takes a tentative bite of shortbread, Billy grins at her. “Atta girl.”

Max and the rest of the gang emerge from the basement and spill into the kitchen and converge on the shortbread like Piranhas. Once the food is nothing but crumbs they all file out the front door to head home. Max waits for him in the car. Karen sees him out, always does.

He puts both hands on the door frame to support himself, leans into Karen's space. He can practically feel the heat in her face poring onto him. “It was real nice talking with you, Karen. The shortbread was _excellent._ ”

She waves him off. “It’s nothing. You know you and your sister are always welcome in my home.”

“We appreciate it,” Karen’s staring at his mouth a little longer than can be considered polite. Billy tries not to enjoy it too much.

It’s not all that appropriate what they have going on. Karen’s a little under twice his age. There's no real intent behind it, Billy just likes to make people feel good about themselves. Steve’s influence, probably. He’d never act on it even if he wanted to, even if he wasn’t with Steve. Karen’s a MILF, no doubt about it. But Billy wouldn’t fuck around with an 18 year old at 34, he shouldn’t encourage the reverse, always reels it in before it can go too far.

He says goodbye with a wink and swaggers to the Camaro. Reads today’s note once he’s inside.

_I love that you’re a big flirt. I thought it would bother me once we started dating, but it’s just how you are. And it’s pretty hilarious watching Mrs. Wheeler trip over her own feet whenever you two talk._

“Another letter from your secret girlfriend?” Max asks.

“Might be,”

“Tell her her boyfriends a thief, and that I want my damn lip gloss back.”

“I’ll pass it along,”

…

_15;_

_Read me after we’ve had a fight._

They don’t fight a lot, not anymore. They got most of it out of their systems before they were even friends. Billy’d never raise a hand to Steve now they’re together, it’s unthinkable. Can’t always say the same for raising his voice and being an asshole, though. Steve’s got anxiety problems, Billy’s got some anger issues. They miscommunicate. Then they work it out.

Billy’s not sure whose fault it is today. They’re driving to school, Steve’s keyed up over something his dad said or did, Billy’s not really paying attention, he’s a little too pissed off to listen. Neil again. It’s always Neil. Billy was actually in the middle of telling Steve about the almost beating he got last night when he notices Steve’s not even looking at him, too busy staring out the window with a far away look on his face.

Billy tries to let it slide, he really does. “Steve.”

“Mmm?”

“Are you even listening?”

“Yeah,”

“Then what did I just say?”

Steve looks at him, at a loss. “…Something about your dad?”

Billy scoffs. “Unbelievable.”

“Oh fuck off, Billy. It’s not like you asked how I’m doing today. Sorry I have my own shit going on.”

Billy tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “And what might that be?”

“Like you care,”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

Steve sighs. “My dad lost his shit when he found out I missed the date for early application, then he called up the school for my GPA. He’s trying to bribe me into college, threatening to cut me off if I don’t go.”

_Unbelievable._ “Let me get this straight, you’re actually comparing your dad, your _rich_ dad who’s given your whole life to you on a god damn silver platter, to my piece of shit father who beats me on the reg? Just so we’re clear.”

Steve flinches. “That’s not fair.”

“No, it isn’t fair! Isn’t fucking fair at all that you’re gonna get to go to college and I’m gonna get kicked out the day I finish high school.”

“Pull over.”

“Oh, you’re skipping school, now? That’ll make papa Harrington _real_ happy I bet. No wonder he has to bribe you in, I tell you the truth and you run away from your one responsibility. You’re such a spoiled brat, Steve.”

“Pull over, god damn it.”

“Or what?”

Steve slams his fist into the passenger window. The glass shakes, cracks a little. “STOP THE FUCKING CAR!”

He slams the breaks, jerks forward in his seat. Steve slams the door behind him, turns back in the direction they just came.

Billy knows he’s gone too far, knows he needs to be gentle with Steve, but fucking Neil and he’s got so much adrenaline and anger in him he’s shaking, doesn’t know what else to do, so he rolls down the window, calls Steve a pussy as he drives past, tries not to look at Steve’s crying reflection in the wing mirror.

He has a an awful day. Can’t focus on a damn thing in class. He’s out of cigarettes and Tommy’s being an asshole and won’t lend him one, so Billy shoves him into the lockers and snatches the packet off the floor where it falls. Gets detention for it.

Billy’s about ten minutes into the allotted forty five when he remembers the note. Digs it out of his pocket for something to do.

_I love that you’re honest. When you don’t like something you say so. The people you care about know you care about them, you make sure they know._

Well, fuck. If Billy didn’t feel like a piece of shit before, he sure does now.

He went way too far this morning, should’ve just told Steve he didn’t feel heard, then Steve would’ve said he wasn’t in a place to hear him, and they’d hug at the next stop sign and promise to talk about it later. Billy doesn’t wanna turn into Neil, he really doesn’t. Can’t imagine anything worse. Yet here he is, hurting the only person other than Max he gives a shit about. Billy hates himself.

Billy should leave Steve alone, give him some time before apologising. But Billy’s panicking he’s blown his biggest reason for staying alive and isn’t that a terrifying thought? He can’t call, Steve’ll just hang up on him. Can’t knock on the front door, no way Steve’s parents are gonna let him in after what Steve told him.

He blows off the rest of detention and drives, parks a block away from Steve’s house and scales the backyard fence. Thank fuck the curtains are closed, the patio doors are all glass, would’ve given the Harrington’s front row seats to Billy scrambling over their fence and falling hard on his ass.

It’s been a minute since Billy climbed the pipe up to Steve’s window, looks a little icy. Billy tries a couple times but he can’t get a grip. That leaves the trellis.

It doesn’t look nearly strong enough to hold all 180 pounds of him. Billy should throw a rock at Steve’s window, talk in whispers. He climbs the trellis.

Billy can hear it creaking against the wall under his weight. He climbs as fast as he can, uses all his strength to hold himself up on Steve’s windowsill, taps on the window with his knuckles. Steve draws back the curtains, takes one look at Billy before shutting them again. _Crap._

“Steve,” Billy hisses. No answer. Billy knocks again, gentle. No answer. He knocks harder. And harder. Hard enough they can probably hear it downstairs. Steve tears the curtains away and opens the window.

“Will you shut the fuck up? my dad’s already threatening to ground me, I don’t wanna be under house arrest.”

“We need to talk,”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

“Steve-“

“Fuck off, Billy.”

“I’m not leaving till you talk to me,”

Steve clenches his jaw. “You’re a real selfish asshole when you wanna be, you know that?” Steve holds out a reluctant hand, helps Billy climb in, doesn’t stop him from falling face first onto the floor.

Billy groans into the carpet. “Alright, I deserved that.”

“Deserve a lot worse,”

Billy freezes. Neil’s words. “Don’t- don’t say that. I’m here to apologise but _fuck me_ , Steve, don’t you _ever_ say that to me again.”

Steve crosses the room, leans against his bedroom door, arms crossed. “Not nice when someone hurts you on purpose, is it?”

Steve is supposed to make this easy. He always makes it easy. Billy must’ve fucked up just as much as he thought. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“I should, after today.”

“Are you, though?”

“What do you think?”

“For fuck sake, Steve, can you give me a straight answer?”

“…No.”

“No you won’t give me a straight answer, or no you aren’t breaking up with me?”

“The second one.”

Billy slumps onto Steve’s bed, holds his head in his hands. “Okay.”

“Okay? Just okay?”

“I need- I need a minute.” Steve shuts up. He’s never been this mean before. Billy wishes he hadn’t come. Wishes he didn’t deserve it.

Billy’s doing his damn best not to cry. Every time he opens his mouth to speak his lip starts shaking and his throat chokes up. Steve must notice his shaking shoulders. He curses softly, sits on the bed next to Billy, rubs a hand up and down his back.

“That was too far,” He says softly.

“Deserved it,”

“No, you didn’t. No one deserves that.”

Billy nods a couple times, let’s Steve rub concentric circles between his shoulder blades. Breathes through it.

“You want some water?” Steve asks.

“I wanna talk,”

“You can have both, you know.”

“You’re stalling,”

“No I’m not,” Billy just looks at him. “Alright, maybe I am.”

Billy turns to face Steve on the bed proper. Steve’s hand drops from his back, fists a little in the comforter. “I went too far today. Way too far. I didn’t mean any of it. I’m so fucking sorry, Steve.” Steve nods, waits for Billy to continue. “You’re not a spoiled brat and you’re not a pussy. I’ll be honest, I don’t really get your problems the way you get mine, but that’s because you don’t talk about them.”

“And that makes your reaction today okay?”

“I didn’t say that,” Billy says softly, placating.

Steve closes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths. “I shouldn’t have started talking about my crap when you weren’t finished talking about yours.”

“I should’ve asked whether you wanted to hear it first,”

Steve smiles in that self deprecating way he often does. “We’re a couple of schmucks, huh?”

Billy can’t help but laugh at that. “Looks like.”

Steve’s hand finds Billy’s on the bed, grips it firmly. “I wasn’t comparing our dads or our lives. I know they’re not the same.”

“I know. I knee jerked. Your shit matters too.”

They sit quietly for a minute or so, listen to the muffled sound of the tv coming from downstairs. Steve breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry I broke your window. I’ll pay to have it fixed.”

“You don’t need to do that,”

“I want to,”

“Okay,” Billy slips his hand out of Steve’s grip, slides it along Steve’s forearm, wraps it lightly around his bicep. “Can I have a hug, please?” His voice cracks a little on the please. Steve practically throws himself at Billy. They bounce on the bed in a tangle of limbs.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually already posted this chapter for all of 5 minutes today before I panic deleted it. Still not sure how I feel about the bulk of it honestly, but finished is better than perfect.
> 
> Little heads up, number 19 is a little heavy and has Neil saying exactly one slur. Added the period typical homophobia tag after posting the fic so chance anyone coming back might have missed the warning.

_16;_

_Read me when you’re listening to music._

Billy’s still feeling pretty raw after yesterday. They’ve made up for the most part, it’s just a little tense between them so soon after. They’re spending a couple days apart to let things settle. He’s not happy about it, but he knows it’s the right thing to do.

He’s forgotten how to be alone. He’s spent so much time glued to Steve he doesn’t know how to tolerate his own company for an extended period of time. Max is spending a couple nights over at El’s, and Billy really doesn’t care for anybody else in this little town, so he’s got his walkman and radio for company.

Billy loves music. Music was his first great love, surfing his second, Steve his third. Nothing has ever been able to touch him like music can. Music’s gotten him through the years without Max or Steve or his mom to give him an escape from Neil.

He’s spent pretty much the whole day with his headphones on, only taken them off to shower and drive and for class. His walkman ends up dying right before lunch, which is just great. Exactly what he needs today. Billy manages to resist the urge to ditch and go listen to the radio in his car. Just barely.

It’s an immense relief when the last bell rings and he can finally finish Billy Squier’s Lonely is The Night, he got through about half the song when the walkman ran out of juice. It’s been stuck in his head since.

_I love how passionate you are about music. Listening to you play guitar, watching you stick your head out the window as you scream along with Metallica, that makes me feel alive, to see how alive you are in those moments._

Billy smiles down at the note, curses himself for being such a fucking idiot yesterday. Steve always gives him what he needs.

He sings all the way home.

…  
_17;_

_Read me when you’re feeling unmotivated._

Billy’s having one of those days where nothing goes right and everything goes wrong. He rolled over in his sleep so his head wound up over the edge of the mattress and it’s fucked his neck up something good, accidentally used the last of his milk for his cereal, spilled it all over the table when Neil started yelling at him for it. He forgets his coat in his hurry to get away, then his car dies on the way to school and he has to flag down someone to give him a jump in sub zero snow which means he’s probably gonna be sick, and now he’s late for school so there’s gonna be another letter home.

He’s pretty fucking done with the day before it’s even started. Steve doesn’t show up to any of their classes either, which is just fucking great.

There’s a pretty big test today which they both studied for. After the morning Billy’s had all the stuff he learned and memorised seems to have just fallen out of his head. He’s definitely gonna fail, might as well not even bother trying.

He resolves to read Steve’s note of the day and decide what course of action to take after.

_I love how hard you work. No matter whether it’s school, or basketball, or on your car, or writing a song, you put everything you have into it. It’s inspiring._

Billy aces the test.

…  
_18;_

_Read me before you jerk off._

Billy’s not been this sexually frustrated in a while. He and Steve are still taking some time. It doesn’t sound like much, but between Steve’s parents getting home then him getting sick and now their fight, they haven’t had sex in a week, which is an awful long time when Billy’s been getting at the very least a quick handy every other day for the past ten months.

He’s kind of forgotten what his own hand feels like, he’s not jerked off for the sake of it in so long, hasn’t needed to. It feels weird, now. His hands aren’t small, but they’re a lot smaller than Steve’s. Billy’d rather ignore it honestly, he’s not actually in the mood, but his body definitely is.

It’s a Sunday, nobodies home and they aren’t gonna be for at least an hour. There’s no excuse not to at this point.

He heads for his room, locks the door behind him, flops onto the bed with a bounce. He’s half hard, palms his dick through his shorts a couple times, digs the heel of his hand into it. Billy doesn’t really wanna think about Steve, it’ll just make Billy miss him more. Tries to think about nondescript cocks and smooth skin stretched over taut muscles, keeps coming back to the memory of the curve in Steve’s cock, the moles that cover him like stars. After a few failed attempts of trying to jerk off to anything but Steve he gives up, remembers the note, tears across the bedroom to dig it out of the jar, dick slapping his thigh as he stumbles.

_I love how good you are in bed. No one’s ever made me cum five times in one night._

Billy’s breathing a little faster at the memory, heart beating a little harder, and just like that he’s at full mast.

He throws himself back on the bed, rucks up his shirt to get at his nipples, licks his thumb and index finger before giving the right a couple tweaks. Billy starts out slow, lets his fingertips dance across his low stomach, feels the muscles jump and his cock twitch in anticipation, thinks about that night.

_Steve lifts his hips so Billy can slot the towel wrapped pillow under his hips. Steve’s legs swing open for Billy like gates, knees falling flat on the bed. He’s much more flexible than he looks. Billy stops what he’s doing to really take Steve in, commit the picture he makes to memory. The head of his cock is flushed shiny pink as his spit slick lips._

Billy opens his own legs, rakes his nails lightly from the side of his knee all the way up his inner thigh, tugs on the hairs a little at the crease between thigh and hip, breath hitching.

_“You just gonna stare all night or what?” Steve goads. Billy gives him a little smack on the thigh. Steve gasps_

_“You’ll take what I give you when I give it to you,” Steve nods, mouth open._

_It’s been a couple days since Billy was inside him, wants to take his time opening Steve up, make him fall apart before Billy fucks him into next week. Steve passes him the lube with a shaky hand. Billy squeezes some onto his fingers, probably too much, rubs them together to warm it up before ghosting a slick touch from the top to the bottom of Steve’s crack._

Billy repeats the motion on himself, fingers dry, chest heaving. Fumbles with his free hand desperately under the bed for his mostly empty bottle of lube.

_He does it a few times, just trails his fingers up, down and back again till Steve’s squirming. Billy stops teasing, lets his index and middle finger rest against Steve’s hole, rubs gentle circles into it. Steve sighs a moan. Billy rubs and rubs and rubs, feels the muscle clenching and unclenching with anticipation. He applies more pressure and feels it give around him, feels the tips of his fingers slide in._

He finds the lube, screws off the cap and upends the bottle, slams the opening against the palm of his left hand to get the dregs out. There’s a red circle on his hand surrounding the lube. Billy tosses the empty bottle and gets his hand between his legs, starts opening himself up.

_“Oh- oh,” Steve gasps. Billy’s taking it real slow and Steve’s letting him. He’s usually so impatient when he’s the one getting fucked. Takes his sweet time taking Billy apart but always protests the reverse, but not tonight. Not tonight._

_Billy eases his fingers all the way in, can’t take his eyes off the sight of himself disappearing inside Steve. Billy’s had an awful lot of sex, so much he can’t remember it all. This sight ins’t particularly new, but it always hits him like the first time. There’s something inexplicably hot, even moving, about someone opening themselves up to you, making room inside. Steve clenches around Billy’s fingers, tight and hot and slick, punches a sound out of Billy._

He starts out with one finger, wants this to last as long as possible. Works it in and out again, again, again, eases a second one in. Been a little while, almost hurts. Almost.

_Billy thrusts his hand slow, slow, ups the pace incrementally, watches Steve’s breathing grow shallower, watches his chest expand faster and more frequently. Steve’s thrusting down onto his fingers now, breathy moans and eyes shut, brow furrowed. Billy uses his free hand to grab Steve’s hip, stabilises him a little so he can slam his hand into Steve. Steve’s back arches, gasps then whines high in his throat. “Billy,” he says. “Do that again.” He does. Harder, faster. Fucks Steve proper with his hand like it’s his cock._

Billy wets his lips, fingers himself to the pace of the memory, feels his neglected cock throb and leak onto his stomach. Not yet.

_Steve’s face is flushing, there’s a sheen of sweet on his forehead, his lip. His eyes are still shut, lost to it. Billy starts crooking his fingers every few strokes, warms Steve up to the touch. He’s so sensitive there. Can’t take too much too fast. Steve moans like he’s in pain every time Billy rubs his prostate with intent. The first time Billy touched Steve there it scared him shitless, thought his nails were too long and maybe he’d cut Steve. Steve just laughed it off and told him it was the best fucking thing he’d ever felt._

Billy nudges his own prostate a couple times, uses his other hand to press into his perineum, rubs them in tandem. The pressure is good, it’s so fucking good.

_Steve’s cock is twitching on his stomach like never before, Billy’s never seen it move so much. Leaking up a fucking storm too, more precum than Billy thought was possible. “Can you,” Billy pants. “Can you come like this?” Steve swallows, chest heaving._

_“I think so,”_

_Steve’s never come untouched before. Billy wants it, wants it so bad he can taste it. Starts massaging that little spot in him proper, doesn’t let up. Steve’s writhing on the bed, chest shiny with sweat, hands fisting in the sheets. He’s bucking into the air and thrusting down onto Billy’s fingers like he can’t decide if he wants more or to get away. Billy’s so hard it hurts, can feel the weight of himself bobbing. There’s so much blood in his cock he almost can’t think straight, all he can focus on is getting Steve there. Nothing else matters._

Billy writhes on his own bed like Steve writhed on his, knocks his head back into the pillow and squeezes his balls, finally touches his dick, wants to cry with relief at how good it feels.

_Steve’s alternating between these deep, deep groans and cut off gasps. He can’t hold still. Billy has to hold him down, slots his legs on top of Steve’s thighs and moves his other hand from his thigh to his shoulder, shifts his weight. Steve looks up at him, eyes glassy, hair a mess. Billy fucks him harder and without mercy. Steve’s orgasm takes them both by surprise. His hands fly up, fist in Billy’s hair as he near screams his release. Billy looks down in time to see Steve spill all over his stomach, shoot up onto his chest, gets a little on Billy’s wrist. Billy feels Steve clamp down around his fingers. His whole body seizes up, then relaxes with a shuddering breath._

Billy’s hand is a blur on his dick, fingers disappearing inside him so fast he can hear the wet sound of it over his laboured breathing, loud in the quiet house. The memories blur a little as Billy focuses on a sort of highlight reel of his favourite moments. Finally pushing in, Steve coming a second time, a third, and then Billy’s tipping over the edge in time with the memory, comes so hard he feels it hit his chin.

“Holy fuck,” he says to the empty room.

  
…  
19;

_Read me when you’ve helped someone._

“What the fuck is this?” Neil shouts.

Billy yanks off his headphones, hears muffled crying.

“You a little queer, huh? Is that it?” Neil’s screaming. At Max. He’s never screamed at Max. “I asked you a question, Maxine!”

Billy tears out of his room and into Max’s. She’s sobbing into her hands, Neil towers over her, playboy held aloft and rolled up like he’s going to smack her with it. Billy grabs his father by the back of his collar, yanks him away from his sister and stands between them.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Neil blinks at him, shocked. Billy’s never pushed back.

“I found this,” Neil waves the magazine at Billy. “in her room.”

“And why the fuck were you poking through her things?”

Neil’s nostrils flare. “You better watch yourself, Billy.”

“Max isn’t your kid! She’s not yours to intimidate!” Billy thinks on his feet, snatches the magazine out of Neil’s hand. “This isn’t even hers, it’s mine!”

“You think I’m stupid, huh? Why would your dirty little porno mag be in here and not in your room?”

“Because you go through my shit all the time and you threw out all the others. I asked her to hide it for me. She only did it ‘cause I payed her.”

Neil looks at Billy, at the magazine, at Max.  
“Is this true, Max?”

Max hiccups, wipes her nose on her sleeve. “Yeah.” She chokes out.

Neil swallows the lie. “Well, alright then.” He turns to leave, thinks better of it, grabs Billy by the shirt and shoves him into the wall. “You ever talk to me like that in my own house again, you’re gonna be out that door faster than you can blink. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m glad we understand each other.” Neil lets go of Billy’s shirt, snatches the magazine back, waves it under Billy’s nose. “I better not find any more of this filth.”

“You won’t.”

Neil slams Max’s door behind him. Billy crouches down in front of Max. “You okay?” He knows she’s not.

Max shakes her head. “It’s not- not mine,” she insists. “it’s not mine, Billy.”

“I know, I believe you.” Doesn’t believe her for a second. But Billy wouldn’t wanna come out like this, either.

Billy rubs her shoulder, lets her cry a little more before patting it and standing up. “Come on, get up, pack a bag.”

Max sniffs. “Where are we going?”

“You’re gonna stay with El for a couple more days.”

“But I just got back,”

“Hopper won’t mind,” Max packs her bag, Billy waits.

“Should I tell my mom?”

“I’ll tell her. You can call her when she gets home and tell her yourself, if you want. If she asks I gave you twenty bucks.”

“I’d have done it for ten,” Billy laughs at that, ruffles her hair.

“You're alright, Max. I ever tell you that?”

Max just shrugs, goes to shoulder her bag. Billy takes it for her.

Max follows him out to the car. Neil doesn’t ask where they’re going, probably realises how much he’s fucked up. It’s a quiet drive to Hopper’s cabin. Max doesn’t turn on the radio and neither does Billy. There’s tension in the silence. Max kept telling him she was fine when he asked but he knows she isn’t fine, knows she's pretty fucking far from fine. Keeps catching her bottom lip trembling every time he peeks at her. Knows he should say something, isn't sure what the right thing to say even is.

He pulls over on the dirt road, couple hundred metres shy of the cabin.

“Why are we stopping?”

“I need to tell you something,” Billy leans across the car, grabs the mason jar out of the glove compartment, passes it to Max.

“Why are you giving these to me?”

“I’m not, I’m letting you read some of the open ones. Just don’t read 18, you don’t wanna read 18.”

Max raises her brows, screws off the lid of the jar, pulls out a couple and reads them. “These are…nice.” She tucks them back in the jar carefully, puts the lid back on. “Why am I reading these?”

Billy takes a deep breath. “They’re not from my girlfriend.” Max blinks at him. “They’re from Steve.”

Max’s mouth drops open. “He’s-“

“My boyfriend, yeah. Been together a year, now.”

“Oh, wow. Ok.” It’s quiet again. Billy’s starting to wonder if this was a mistake, and then Max blurts out, “So you’re gay?”

Billy laughs in surprise. “Yep.”

“What about the magazines? You said you had magazines too.”

“Neil sniffed me out, I used them as decoys. Still can’t believe it worked.”

Max nods in acknowledgement, stares out the window a little while before saying, “I’m not- I’m not _like_ that.”

“It’s ok, Max. I believe you.”

“Is Steve…gay?” She asks.

Billy answers. “Steve’s bi, he likes both.”

“Boys and girls?”

“Uh huh.”

“How did he know?”

“What, that he’s bi?” Max nods again. “You’d have to ask him that.”

Max worries her bottom lip with her teeth. “He wouldn’t mind?”

“Not if you promise not to tell anyone,”

“I’d never,”

“Then I’m sure he’ll tell you. We can take you out in a couple days or something, get some hot chocolate, go for a walk.”

“I’d like that,” Billy knows she’s not done, waits for her to say more. Doesn’t have to wait long. “When did you know?”

Billy reclines in his seat, thinks back. “I think I sorta always knew, I just didn’t wanna admit it to myself. Then it got to a point where I just couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

“Billy?” Billy looks at her. “The magazine. It was mine.”

“I know, Max.’

“I’m just- confused. I’m really confused.”

“You will be, kid. This shit’s scary as hell. At least you have two people to talk to, now. I didn’t have anyone.”

Billy puts the car back in drive, travels the bumpy road up to the cabin. Max unbuckles her seatbelt. “Why did you show me the letters?”

“I wanted to show you that there are other people like us, even in this tiny little town. I wanted to show you that people like us can be happy.”

Max’s lip is trembling again, hits Billy like a fucking truck. He’s crying before she is and they’re hugging over the stick. Max gets snot on Billy’s shirt.

He waves her off from the car, keeps idling once the door is closed. He looks down at the jar in his lap, decides he could use some Steve right about now.

_I love how much you’ve grown, that you stand up for people now instead of pushing them down._

Billy’s proud of himself for how he handled today. Thinks Steve’ll be proud, too.

…  
_20;_

Billy’s got dick jokes on the brain. He’s a god damn innuendo machine. If something sounds even mildly suggestive, he’ll comment on it, at the very least. Might act it out in the middle of the cafeteria on hot dog and taco day if he’s feeling the props.

Everyone acts like they hate it. They boo and cringe and say stupid shit like ‘barf me out, Hargrove,’ but he knows they love it really. Always catches Wheeler smiling behind her carton of milk, Byers coughing behind his hand like that covers up the fact that his shoulders are shaking.

Steve used to hate it, like genuinely hate it. Before they were friends and Billy did everything so over the top it wasn’t funny.

_I love how crass your sense of humour is._

Billy’s not sure when he changed his mind exactly, thinks it’s the time Steve and Carol were debating whether it’s better to spit or swallow your gum. Carol’s a swallower, Steve’s terrified of that _‘seven years in your digestive tract’_ shit.

Billy just said, “If spitter are quitters, what does that make dribblers?” Then chugged his milk and let it trickle out of his mouth and down his chin to spatter on the table. Carol told Billy he was disgusting, Steve laughed so hard he fell out of his chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE y'all tell me what you thought of this chap I'm begging you


	6. Chapter 6

_21;_

_I love that, no matter what’s going on in your life, you’re still there for me. you’re always there for me._

Things don’t shake out with Neil the way Billy was hoping they would, after the magazine incident. Susan is appalled, naturally. She’s taking Max to her mother’s for Christmas, likely New Years. Which is terrible news, ‘cause now Billy’s not got a buffer between his abusive shit storm of a father and himself, and in Neil’s fucked up mind, this chain of events is entirely Billy’s fault.

The violence gets more frequent, thankfully doesn’t escalate. Neil’s usually careful not to leave bruises where people might see them, not since he put that scar in Billy’s eyebrow. That restraint flies right out the door with Susan and Max.

Steve’d let him stay if his parents weren’t home. They can swindle a few hours together in the day, a few late nights if Billy gets up early enough in the morning to get home before Neil realises he’s gone. It’s better than nothing.

He’s sporting a nasty black eye when he parks a street over from Steve’s house. It’s near swollen shut and throbbing something fierce, the cold wind is a welcome balm. Steve will be, too.

Steve’s beemer is the only car in the driveway, so Billy knocks, doesn’t ring the bell. Knows Steve _hates_ how shrill the bell is.

He doesn’t answer, Billy counts two minutes on his watch before he resolves to just get the spare key from where it’s hidden inside one of the twin light fixtures flanking the doors.

“Steve?” Billy calls, shutting the door behind him. Steve doesn’t call back. Billy moves from room to room, finds them all empty, is just starting to worry when he spots Steve through the sliding glass doors in the living room, sitting out by the pool.

The door is open a crack, Billy slides it wide enough to slip out, then closes it behind him. Steve’s head whips around, eyes wide, cheeks wet with tears, nostrils flaring.

Steve’s told him how he gets sometimes, when everything is too much. He can’t think, can’t breathe, can only panic. _Feels like I’m gonna die_ , He told Billy. _Feels like a fucking heart attack_. He usually finds somewhere to hide and hyperventilate and cry till it’s over. Billy’s not seen it happen till now.

Billy’s not sure how to handle this. Steve’s looking at him like a deer caught in headlights, sucking in unsteady breaths. Billy’s helped scared animals before. Rescued birds with broken wings, gotten cats out of trees, helped a dog with its head stuck in a fence. Patience and staying calm was key. Maybe this won’t be all that different.

Billy walks over slow, crouches down about a foot away so there’s space between them but they’re level, softens his voice. “Steve?”

Steve’s mouth opens and closes a few times, like he can’t get words out. “I-I can’t-“

“Talk?” Steve nods, breathing short and shallow.

“Can I touch you?” Steve nods again. Billy closes the distance, sits on his knees and gets a hand on Steve’s back, rubs circles into his back. There’s an ashtray next to Steve, loaded with dead cigarettes.

“I’m gonna go get you some water, ok?”

Steve grabs Billy’s wrist tight, tighter than Steve’s ever grabbed him. “Don’t- don’t go.” Steve chokes out, voice in his higher register.

Billy eases Steve’s grip off his wrist, clasps the hand as he kneels down again. “Alright, I won’t go anywhere. I’m right here with you.” Steve screws his eyes shut, more tears fall. He’s not hyperventilating but he’s on his way.

“You gotta breathe, baby.” Billy puts Steve’s hand on his chest. It rises and falls with each breath. “Like this, deep and slow.”

Steve keeps his eyes shut and leaves his hand where it is, fisted in Billy’s old t-shirt, knuckles pressing into the right pec. Steve relaxes in inches. His breathing slows, he unclenches his fists, he opens his eyes. Then he kind of just, slumps onto Billy, hands limp in his lap, head resting on Billy’s shoulder.

Billy holds him, cups the back of his head and strokes down his neck and back, presses into each notch of Steve’s spine. “Feeling better?”

Steve clears his throat. “Yeah.”

“Can you stand?”

“Uh huh,” Billy knows Steve gets tired after, which is a big part of why he hides away. It’s near impossible for him to get himself anywhere, and he doesn’t want anyone to see him like that. _Makes me feel weak_.

Billy gets two hands under Steve’s damp armpits and hauls him up. Steve sways a little on his feet, but he’s steady for the most part. Billy leads him inside, sits him down on the couch.

“I’m gonna go get that water now,”

“Ok,”

Billy doesn’t dither in the kitchen, fills the first glass he can find and hurries back. Steve’s got his feet up on the sofa, legs hugged to his chest. He chugs three quarters of the glass before stopping to breathe, then throws the rest back. It’d be cute if Billy wasn’t worried holding his breath would set him off again.

“You need more?”

Steve wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “No, thank you.”

He places the glass on the table a little too firm, flinching at the sound. Billy sits next to him, gets an arm round his shoulder and pulls him in close.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not right now,” Steve’s looking at his still swelling eye, concern all over his face. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Billy came to do just that, but Billy doesn’t think Steve’s really up for that right now, even if he did offer. There’s always later. He shakes his head no.

Steve presses his lips together, not letting it drop but not pressing, either. He burrows into Billy’s neck, runs his fingers through the ends of Billy’s hair over and over.

…

_22;_

_I love that you chose me._

It almost wasn’t Steve. Billy wouldn’t have entertained the thought of a relationship with any of the idiots he’d been screwing around with before they got together, but they almost didn’t happen.

Steve took everything with Nancy hard, was definitely a passive participant in their courtship. Made it damn difficult to go after him. Once Billy got him, though, it was more than worth it.

Billy knew somewhere in the back of his mind he was chasing Steve for more than sex. It’s happened before, he’s just been able to ignore that knowledge in the past, doesn’t make a habit of thinking about things he can’t have.

He just couldn’t get enough, even if Steve never approached him first, there was something so magnetic about him. Billy felt it the moment they locked eyes at that terrible halloween party, knew he had to get to know this boy, get under his skin, find what makes him tick.

Gym wasn’t Billy’s favourite class before Hawkins. He always liked it, just preferred English. But his teacher here is shitty and Steve is a vision in those little shorts, Billy had to go after him. Tried signalling in all sorts of ways. He bought those stupid rainbow socks just in case Steve noticed and clocked them. He took the ring out of his left ear, let it heal over and pierced the right instead. Bought a dark blue handkerchief and started wearing it in his back pocket, can’t remember the codes for shit but whatever, it’s not something the straight boys are doing.

Steve didn’t comment on any of it, hardly even noticed. It drove Billy nuts. Dirty jokes were appreciated at surface value, the most Billy got was tense eye contact and a lingering gaze below the belt in the showers.

A month of that nonsense and Billy finally decided enough was enough. Knew if he fucked around any longer he’d lose his nerve, so he picked a random day, and ran interference in the locker room, anything to delay Steve going to shower. Steve was getting pretty damn pissy, practically stormed off when Billy decided it was empty enough to take a risk.

He followed Steve into the showers, quick on his heel, had him pushed up against the cold wet tile the second the water started running.

Steve had frozen up, Billy was real worried he’d been reading everything wrong, that maybe Steve was looking out of envy and not desire. Billy was desperately trying to think of how to explain away the half hard dick pressing into Steve’s hip, whether he should hit him, whether Steve’ll tell anyone, if-

Then Steve kissed him, pressed his own dick into Billy’s hip, and Billy knew he hadn’t made a mistake after all.

…

_23;_

_Read me when you have trouble solving a problem._

Billy has always been resourceful. Had to be, living with Neil. Neil sure as shit wasn’t looking out for him before he cleaned up his act for Susan. Billy had to teach himself all kinds of shit. How to cook, how to do his own laundry, how to drive, how to change the oil in his car, how to change a tire, the list goes on.

It’s not often Billy finds himself stuck for a course of action. But when he finds his stash of cash hidden beneath the loose floorboard in his room is gone, it takes a considerable effort to not freak the fuck out.

It wasn’t a huge amount of money. Still, $80 is a lot to a teenager that’s preparing for imminent homelessness. Took him way longer than it should have to save it all with Neil always cornering him when he gets home from work, demanding he _‘pay his way’_. It’s not the first time Neil’s found the stash, this is the most Billy has ever lost, though.

Billy’s first instinct is to call Steve. Knows he can’t with his parents home. Steve’s mom has a habit of eavesdropping on calls. So he settles for the next best thing.

_I love resourceful you are. No matter what happens, you always figure a way out of it._

And just like that, Billy feels a little less hopeless.

…

_24;_

_I love that you don’t want me to be anybody but who I am, I love that you don’t want to change me._

Steve has changed a lot based on what Billy’s heard. From quiet and shy, to mr. popular, to the antisocial loyal boyfriend, to loser babysitter, and now whatever he is with Billy, some blend of all the iterations of Steve that came before.

Steve’s never had a lot of ambition. Never wanted what his parents expect of him. Married young, kids, 9-5 job, white picket fence. Said his heart wasn’t in it when Nancy encouraged him to apply for college. He seems in his element coasting through life, hanging with the kids, hanging with Billy, working dead-end jobs during the holidays.

It's surprising, although not entirely unexpected taking all of this into account, when Steve blurts out, “What’s gonna happen to us after graduation?”

It’s a good question. Billy’s been doing his best not to think about it. If it was anyone else asking he’d get cynical and bitch about his impending homelessness. He’s not going to college, fuck that noise. He’s planning to drive back to California the day of, live in his car if he has to, till he can find something better.

“What do you want to happen?”

Steve doesn’t look up, just keeps playing with Billy’s hands like girls do when they’re nervous, or infatuated, or both. “I don’t really care what I’m doing, as long as I’m with you.”

It feels like too much to ask, for Steve to come with him. Leave everything he’s known behind.

“What about college? Your dad-“

“He can’t make me go if I don’t want to,”

The question hangs in the air. Billy can feel the weight of the moment bearing down on him.

“I’m going back to California,”

“Long Beach,”

“Yeah,”

“Do you… Can I…” Steve drops Billy’s hand in favour of worrying the sleeve of his sweater, fraying the edge. “I want to go with you. Do you want me to go with you?” he looks up at Bill with wide eyes, unsure of himself.

It’s too good to be true, everything Billy would never dare ask for. Billy pulls Steve’s fidgeting hands away, kisses each palm. “I’ll always want you, Steve. Always.”

…

_25;_

Billy is Steve’s first boyfriend. Steve is his. It’s not an unusual thing to have in common, given their age and geographical location.

Billy is not Steve’s first relationship. Billy asked, once. How many he’d had. He actually had to count on his hands, there’s been so many. He even counted the ones he had as a little kid.

Steve is Billy’s first relationship. It’s not information he’s shared. Mostly because Steve hasn’t asked about that aspect of his past. A little bit because Billy doesn’t _want_ to tell him why.

He’s about as far from a virgin as you can get at 18. Billy has fucked a lot of people, wherever he goes there’s a line of admirers. It’s not like he didn’t have feelings for any of them. He just didn’t trust anyone to stay, not after his mom. No one was worth the risk.

It’s a delicate line he has to walk with Steve. Show enough affection it’s clear he’s committed, not so much he’ll fall apart if it ends. He’s not said the words, yet. Steve tells him all the time, as often as he can get away with. It’s bittersweet, makes Billy’s heart soar, makes him feel like he _matters_. Then it crashes and burns when he doesn’t say it back and Steve’s smile falters.

He wants to say it, he does. Doesn’t know what he’s waiting for. They’re leaving this town together, that’s pretty committed. There’s more reasons to say it than not, at this point.

_I love that you love me back._

Billy stares at the note for a long time, reads it over and over and over.

Of course Steve knew, why would he stay, otherwise? He didn’t stay with Nancy when it was clear she didn’t love him.

Part of Billy wants to be annoyed that he’s been so transparent, transparent enough that Steve was confident Billy felt it too. A bigger part wants to drive to Steve’s house, parents be damned, and say it to his face.

He leaves the note on the beside table, pockets his keys, grabs Steve’s present and heads out the door with a smile on his face.


End file.
